Page 27 of Nightshade
“Can I get a list of the members?”
“Uh, this is a private club, Sergeant, and it’s my job to protect the privacy of our members.”
“Is that a no?”
“I think you would need to come back with a search warrant for something like that. It would put me in a difficult position if I were to just hand over the membership list. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do. I’ll come back with a warrant if I need the list. Do you have the paperwork that Leigh-Anne Moss filled out when she applied for work here?”
“Yes, and I showed it to the deputy on Saturday.”
Crane opened a desk drawer and took out a single-page document that was sitting atop a stack. He handed it across the desk to Stilwell, who studied it for a long moment.
“Did you ever call either of these references she lists?” he finally asked.
“No, I didn’t,” Crane said. “I should have. But applicants don’t usually give you the names of people who are not going to speak glowingly about them.”
“True. Can I get a copy of this?”
“Of course.”
Stilwell handed the document back to Crane. Without gettingup, Crane rolled his desk chair over to a copy machine to his right. He fed in the document and soon had a copy to hand back to Stilwell.
“What else can I do for you, Sergeant?” he asked.
“By any chance, do you have a photo of the missing sculpture?” Stilwell responded.
“Yes. The deputy asked me that Saturday and I didn’t have one readily available, but in our archives I found a photo of the presentation of the sculpture to the club in 1916. I have it here.”
Crane opened another drawer and took out a file. From it he pulled a yellowed photo of two men standing next to each other, one passing the black marlin sculpture to the other. A typewritten caption was taped to the back of the photo.
Presented this day, April 4, 1916, from Noah Rossmore to BMC president Padgett Smith
“Can you make a copy of this too?” Stilwell asked.
“Gladly,” Crane said.
Stilwell handed the photo back and waited as Crane rolled over to the copier.
“What else?” Crane asked after handing the photocopy to Stilwell.
There was a note of impatience in his voice. Stilwell knew he had outstayed his welcome. He didn’t care.
“The résumé shows that Moss gave an address on the mainland,” he said. “Do you know if she had a place here on the island?”
“I don’t,” Crane said. “She worked weekends here, which is when we are busiest. A lot of our employees do. Many live on the mainland and go back and forth, or they stay with friends over here. I don’t know what Leigh-Anne’s situation was.”
“Did she ever stay in one of the four rooms you’ve got here?”
“No, of course not. Those are for members’ use only.”
“I thought that would be the case but I had to ask. What about security cameras? Are there any in the building?”
“No, there aren’t. Again, we’re an old club and we protect the privacy of our members. There were no cameras when the club was founded. There are no cameras now.”
Stilwell nodded.
“One last thing,” he said. “You said earlier that your bar manager was one of the people who complained about Moss breaking the rules about socializing with members. What’s his name?”
